


Stop Signs and Switchblades

by Kaibutsu_of_Shinjuku (Lightningpelt)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightningpelt/pseuds/Kaibutsu_of_Shinjuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Shizaya Week Day 6: Overused AUs (Soulmates AU)</p>
<p>Izaya didn't ask for the broken stop sign emblazoned on his hip, and he <i>certainly</i> had no intentions of looking for the person it represented.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Signs and Switchblades

**Author's Note:**

> Because who would want to be with someone who's literally the _personification of a stop sign_? 
> 
> I don't know, I think this is cute. Considering. I don't even know anymore these dorks are destroying me.

Marks, burned into flesh with the clarity of freshly-done tattoos, were sometimes easy to interpret; sometimes, not so.

In Shinra’s case, he never questioned the name emblazoned on his chest: “Celty Sturlson.” He didn’t even question it when the girl by that name was revealed to be a headless fairy from Ireland; Izaya would never stop being amazed by his unwavering devotion. That was the sort of certainty Marks lent to people, although Shinra was admittedly inclined to dive headfirst into things, anyway.

As for Izaya’s intended one, he hoped to never discover the meaning of his own Mark.

“You should put more effort into finding them, Izaya!”

“Shinra, Shinra… _why_?” The young man in question tugged absently at his shirt, staring down at the indelible mark on his right hip. “I’m stuck with a damn stop sign on my hip for _life_ , and absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to make of it. I mean, a _stop sign_? Why a _stop sign_ with a _bent pole_? How is _that_ supposed to identify my perfect match? And why would I want to be with someone who’s apparently the _personification_ of a _stop sign_?” 

Shinra shrugged unhelpfully, grinning. “But Marks are so romantic…!” he said dreamily, slouching over the table. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Izaya. And it’ll be so worth it!”

Izaya gave a smile that was half-grimace. “Yeah, I’m… sure, Shinra.” He glanced again at the Mark disgruntledly, then pulled his shirt back down and tucked it in.

… … …

Izaya, bidding Shinra a cheerful farewell after school, skipped happily down Sunshine Street with a ridiculous little smile on his face. Though his skipping was sometimes entirely without reason, that wasn’t the case–that day, he was on his way to his favorite sushi restaurant, and his mind was already on the otoro he was planning to order.

A tremendous crash interrupted his pleasant daydream, and he paused to take note. A moment later, however, his eyes bugged at the sight of a vending machine flying high above the city street.

_Well, you don’t see_ that _every day…_ he thought, and took a step towards the source of the commotion. He hesitated; wondered briefly _why_ he felt so driven to investigate, but shrugged it off. _Ah, unusual happenings_ are _my area of expertise…_

He was planning on pursuing information brokering, after all. What kind of informant would he be if he didn’t investigate something like a flying vending machine?

He rounded the corner just in time to see the same one responsible for that vending machine lift a car high above his head, giving a truly ferocious roar as he did.

Izaya stared, not only keenly curious but also enraptured, eyes devouring everything about the man’s appearance. He was unnaturally lean, especially for one displaying such strength, and had startling blonde hair that looked soft to the touch. His face would have been exceptionally handsome if it weren’t twisted in such a feral expression of rage, and Izaya was drawn a several steps closer.

_What a sensational monster I’ve found myself.._

The blonde, with another roar, flung the car down the street at a group of fleeing thugs. Then, disheveled and with shoulders heaving, he spun in Izaya’s direction; their eyes met.

“Eeeh?!” the blonde snarled, taking an aggressive step forward; Izaya suddenly had the distinct impression that he should run, but his soles were fixed where they were. “What the hell are you looking at, you flea bastard? You reek like rotten shit, you know that?”

Indignation making him bristle, Izaya sneered back at the stranger. “What sort of dumb beast are you, to make a spectacle of yourself and then be surprised when someone stares?”

The blonde snarled viciously; reached over and, before Izaya could react or even process what was about to happen, seized and uprooted an innocent stop sign, bending the pole in the process.

_Oh_ hell _no._

Izaya’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. It was falling together too seamlessly as the blonde brandished his unexpected weapon, and the seemingly inscrutable image imprinted on his flesh was suddenly made clear–painfully clear.

_Shit._ You _? I’m destined to be with_ you _? Oh hell. Oh hell_ no _._

Instinct took over, then, even as his heart tried to escape the confines of his rib cage and run to the beast. In both very practical self-defense and an attempt to ward off destiny itself, he pulled out his knife and pointed it at his Soulmate.

… … …

Shizuo Heiwajima didn’t savor the idea of having a Mark–and, whenever he needed to explain his away, he came up with some ludicrous story about why he had chosen to have a switchblade tattooed on his left hip. He wasn’t particularly interested in tracking down the person the mark represented, either; as far as he was concerned, life was good just as it was.

And then the flea bastard pulled a switchblade on him.

“Aw hell…” Shizuo grumbled, slamming the end of the stop sign into the ground with enough force to crack the concrete. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

… … …

Izaya faltered, wondering why the beast seemed to have put down his weapon. The blonde reached back and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, tugging at his belt with the other.

“Why the hell did you have to go and do that…?” he asked angrily, and Izaya tensed again.

“Because you threatened me, clearly,” he replied snippily, then froze as the blonde’s glare intensified.

“Damn it… damn it, why did it have to be someone like you?” he grumbled, and then yanked the hem of his slacks down. Izaya felt the impact like a vending machine straight to his chest.

“Ha…” he began weakly, then burst into peels of laughter. “Haha…! Hahahaha! Ah-hahaha! Of course! Why am I even surprised?” he asked, even as the blonde glared severely at him. Then, seeing as the other had discarded his weapon, Izaya obligingly tucked his knife away and pulled his own shirt up. “See? Look at mine!”

“Shit…” the blonde grumbled, shaking his head. “What a pain… I wouldn’t have even cared…”

“… if you never found me?” Izaya guessed, and the blonde’s lip drew back over his teeth. “I thought the same thing!”

“And of all people…” the blonde grumbled.

“Think of how I feel!” Izaya countered.

“Fair enough…” the blonde grunted, surprising Izaya. So it was the aspiring information broker who closed the gap between them, offering his hand.

“Orihara Izaya, at your service.”

The blonde regarded the hand mistrustfully–and distastefully–for a moment, then sighed and looked away slightly, nesting his hand with Izaya’s. “I’m Heiwajima Shizuo.”

“I’ll call you Shizu-chan,” Izaya decided out loud, and Shizuo’s face twisted in outrage. “Now now, don’t do that. If there’s one thing going for you, it’s that you’ve got a bestial handsomeness about you.”

Shizuo’s expression eased, but there was still a bite to his tone as he said, “Yeah, well you’re not bad looking yourself, considering how revolting you _smell_.”

Izaya wondered if he should be insulted or not as they disentangled their hands, but eventually he settled on letting the whole comment slide without reacting to it. “So… what now?”

Shizuo growled softly. “Like hell I know.”

Izaya hadn’t the slightest clue, either, but he figured he should at least hazard a guess of some sort. “… I was on my way to get supper. You could join me.”

“Or we could pretend this never happened,” Shizuo countered, and Izaya hated the way his heart dropped.

_This is why…_ he thought bitterly, _it would have been find if I’d never even–_

“… Where were you planning on grabbing diner?”

Izaya’s gaze widened as the blonde asked it; Shizuo was looking away, but his expression was a lot calmer than it had been to that point. He stole a glance at Izaya, then looked away again quickly.

And Izaya smiled.

“Russia Sushi!” he said, grabbing the blonde’s hand and tugging him down the street.

“Aah, Simon’s place,” Shizuo murmured, looking in a disgruntled way at how he was being pulled along.

“You know it, then?” Izaya asked, and Shizuo nodded.

“Yeah. Simon’s a friend, sort of.”

“Speaking of friends,” Izaya chatted casually, “I’ll have to introduce you to mine! He’s such a hopeless romantic, this is exactly the sort of thing he’ll turn into a disgusting puddle of _goo_ over.”

“Sounds like a character…” Shizuo murmured absently, then gently resisted the hand leading him. Izaya drew to a reluctant stop, looking back at him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Get in deeper,” Shizuo elaborated, then cursed quietly. “You just said you’d be fine never finding your Soulmate. What’s changed? I’m pretty sure we were about to fight to the death back there, anyway.”

Izaya thought for a moment, looking for something honest that wouldn’t put him in too vulnerable a position. His hand flexed around Shizuo’s, and he wondered if the blonde wanted to pull away.

“Because you’re a lot more _spectacular_ than I expected,” he said at last, and then grinned. “Besides, we can always go back to the whole fight-to-the-death thing if this doesn’t work out. That sounds like almost as much fun as the Soulmate thing, right Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo, after a moment, laughed. It was a full-bodied laugh that warmed Izaya’s whole body, and his smile grew more honest.

“Sounds like a deal, Flea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos keep me going, and notes on [the tumblr version](http://niaowrites.tumblr.com/post/143073723718/stop-signs-and-switchblades) mean the world! Thanks for reading~!


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